Sketchbook
by Kovva
Summary: Plot bunnies, short stories, literary equivalent of sketches. See first chapter for the table of contents. Please consider not reading them in order, the worst are usually the first. Latest: #13 - A companion chapter to "Futuresight" :D
1. intro & table of contents

One fine day in the middle of the night  
This girl got an urge to write.

The story of nearly every chapter in this story. Welcome to my sketchbook :)

**table of contents**

[**2:** second dance Sam doesn't know what to do.

[**3:** intruder what really happened in the girls' bathroom?

[**4:** jump the train Control Freaks moment, elaborated.

[**5:** fanfiction Sam and Danny discuss.

[**6: **closet time started as my take on stories containing "spin-the-bottle" ... ended up as a random one-shot thing with two endings.

[**7: **rewritten Iceheart ch 1 well, here's as much as I've got for the new Iceheart...may still need corrections.

[**8:** curiosity Poindexter gets too curious.

[**9:** death of a trio how does Tucker feel about the whole dannysam thing anyway?

[**10:** future sight yes, I name chapters after pokemon attacks. jk.

[**11: **birds and bees slightly experimental in form...nothing bad

[**12:** hamlet we've been studying hamlet in english...i couldn't get over the similarities...

[**13: **future sight 2 companion to #10 future sight - a look into the past


	2. second dance

**2**

Dances are overrated. They really are.

I've been to one; no one knows how to dance! Unless you call moshing "dancing". The punch was okay, non-spiked, thankfully, and the balloons and streamers were nostalgically fifties. Danny actually danced with me after everyone else had left. He followed my lead, mostly. I've been to so many etiquette classes thanks to my socialite mom it's not even funny, but the dance class was worth it, I guess. Okay, it was definitely worth it to know I was the only one who actually knew how to dance to slow songs.

Well, that was ninth grade. We're sophomores now, the "wise fools". We've learned the ins and outs of high school, and Danny, Tucker, and I aren't afraid to take the shortcuts or the long roads. We know them both.

But there are no easy ways out of dances. Every single time they're announced, I sigh in resignation and hope those foolish fools have fun jumping up and down to all the stupid pop songs. If I've experienced a Casper High dance once, I've had enough...I hear they're all the same, in music and decorations and people. The only things that change are the dates and dresses.

So when they announced the newest one around Valentine's Day, I was ready to hurl. The theme was sickeningly girly—"I Have Eyes Only For You". What kind of googly-eyed statement is that? I didn't care if I got asked or not. Anyway, the only possible choices were Danny or Tucker, because we were such outcasts.

They didn't seem too excited about it either. We haven't been to one since last fall.

So that's why when Danny, out of the blue, asked me if I'd like to go with him to the dance, all I could say was "Huh?"

Like good friends, we argued.

"I thought you didn't really like the theme," I said.

We were sitting at a bench outdoors at lunch time, consuming our food. Tucker was watching us beadily, waiting for drama. His anticipation was written all over his face. I swear, he must watch soaps or something.

Danny looked down at the bitten part of his sandwich. "Umm...yeah."

He was fascinating to watch. I stifled a laugh as he started picking off pieces of the bread and rolling them into miniature dough balls. After a while he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly stopped. "Well, if you don't want to, that's fine. It _is_ pretty dumb..."

"Wait," I said. "Why not?"

I couldn't believe I was saying this. At that moment, I had a crazy idea we could do something crazy to stir up the school. Perhaps get a different theme with popular support. Something more edgy.

He blinked at me. "Uhh, if you want to..."

Tucker grinned slyly at me out of the corner of my eye. I put my hand next to my eye so I couldn't see him. _See no evil..._

"Yeah! Sure!" I said, somehow eking out a very relaxed response. Half of me didn't want to go, but half of me said it would be so much more fun with Danny, and of course the radical things I was going to do there. Such as _not_ get a manicure and a pedicure and my hair all styled up at a salon before the dance, like every other girl did? I could do that myself, thank you. If I were a popular, I'd be exiled for those crimes for sure.

I focused on my salad, not wanting to look at Danny just yet. Why did things have to be so weird? No, they didn't have to. I would look up and pretend nothing had happened. We ARE still best friends, we always have and we always will be.

"So," said Tucker, "What was that all about?"

"We're going as friends, of course. Don't give me that look, Tuck. Why don't you go ask Valerie as 'just friends'. We'll believe you!" answered Danny. And indeed his face bore a sincere look. On the outside, at least.

Tucker seemed to run Danny's words through his megacalculator of a mind and decided they were true enough. I could tell, even though all he showed outwardly was a shrug of the shoulders.

Now that I was 'asked', I was forbidden to complain about dances like I'd done last year. Dangit. A wry grin spread over my face without me wanting it to.

In the weeks before the dance, even the most popular girls stooped to my level just to fish for gossip. I told them nothing, only gave them my best disaffected glare. I know I won't make any friends that way, but to tell the truth, I didn't feel like it at all. Everyone thought we were going to end up as lovebirds someday anyway. Partially thrilling and partially weird.

We three spoke next to nothing of the dance, just like last time. Somewhere along the way Tucker had gotten Valerie alone and gotten a yes. I was happy for him, but secretly amazed.

I sidled up to her during Chem. "So, tell me why everyone is so excited about the dance. Please?"

She shrugged, looking at me strangely. "'Cause it's like a date?"

"Is that all?"

"It's...just special. And you get to wear a dress one day out of 364."

"Sounds vaguely...overrated. A lot of people can get a date and a dress."

"Sam," she sighed, an impatient sound. "What matters is that everyone else is there. It's a social, conformist thing. It always has happened—that people go—and it always will. People are always going to go to dances. It's just a given or something." She shook her head, hoping I was satisfied, and turned away.

I looked at the ceiling, then down again at my chemistry book. Valerie was right. I would be a conformist if I went, but I could change that.

"Aren't you happy? Aren't you excited?" asked Tucker as he sat down beside me on the hallway floor where I was people-watching, obviously wondering about my sour expression the day before the evening of the dance.

I looked at him. "Are you? Tell the truth."

Tucker complied: "I—uh—mm, no. Yes. Kind of. I love that I get to take a girl to a dance but...my tux is too hot and uncomfortable." He looked down sheepishly, as though embarrassed by that fact.

"That's a problem." I commented.

He gave a short laugh. "I have no choice. Valerie would be so p-o'ed if I didn't wear it. Heck, wouldn't you hate it if Danny showed up in something other than Sunday best?"

"Boys, boys, boys..." I rolled my eyes. Tradition was stronger than cobwebs; they were cables. I knew no boy would dare not wear a suit. I knew it would be a warm night for Tucker and every other sweating, nervous boy, questioning why, oh why did I ask her? Stupid hormones!

I grinned even more when I remembered Danny had a cooler body temperature than most because of his ghost half. He'd be the boy who would keep his _cool._

Everywhere I looked, I saw more problems with dances. I didn't get how great it was supposed to be to pay for a girl's tickets and dinner and maybe photos too, and wear a stuffy penguin suit all night long and accidentally step on her toes while attempting to dance. I just didn't understand.

Now the girls' point of view I did. To an extent, every girl loves wearing a dress that suits her and makes her look gorgeous. Most girls don't mind taking advantage of a guy's favor and money to wear that dress to a social event where all the other girls might possibly die of jealousy. Dresses, boys...they're status symbols, and I think about that and laugh.

I'll let the boys figure out their own dilemmas. But I, Sam Manson, will wear this gorgeous and radical dress I modified over the last few weeks to go to a dance with Danny Fenton and _turn some heads_. We're not a couple, we're two friends at a dance event, and we're going to show Casper High how it's done.

Of course, I didn't tell Danny a thing about my plan. He would just have to wait.

_WHATHAPPENSNEXTWHATHAPPENSNEXTWHATHAPPENSNEXTOMGOMGOMG_

_I have written a little of the next bit as a possible sequel, but I just might end it here._


	3. intruder

**3**

"May I go to the bathroom?"

Mr. Lancer looked up from his desk and considered the kid who had spoken. Skinny, black hair, blue eyes, and always trying to get out of class. But hey, it was study time, and he couldn't not let him. He gave Danny a curt nod.

"Thanks."

Danny got up, as inconspicuously as possible, trying to ignore the eye-rolling he knew was going on behind his back. He was getting a rep for having a small bladder, which was pretty embarrassing, but it couldn't be helped: his ghost sense had gone off in the middle of school again. At least it was during study time, where it was less looked down upon to leave the classroom. Only when he had shut the door behind him did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Immediately, he tensed into position, checking left and right before transforming into Danny Phantom, protector of Amity Park. Where was the ghost that had triggered his ghost sense?

He heard the sound of crashing boxes beneath him, and it could only mean the Box Ghost or the Lunch Lady. Much like a diver, he turned intangible and dove into the school's basement to see both of the ghosts cavorting with meat, boxes, and each other. They hadn't seen him yet, so he simply got out his thermos and sucked them both in neatly. He just didn't feel like fighting. Months of practice had made it routine, and he knew he hadn't taken as much time as it would have to use the bathroom. He had exactly three minutes and fourteen seconds of freedom before returning. Where to...?

Soaring up through the floor, he drifted through the hallways aimlessly, and his gaze landed on the girl's bathroom door. Unbidden, the idea came into his mind and wouldn't go away. Why not see what was so forbidden and mysterious inside? It was the perfect opportunity! No one was stalking the halls, and he had enough time to just have a peek...

Turning intangible, he flew through the door soundlessly and was met with the exact same layout of _his_ bathroom, but flipped due to the school's architecture. Sinks were on the left, and the stalls were on the right. The gleaming white tiles and shining mirrors were alien! His bathroom was never this clean... There was no graffiti anywhere, every sink ran clear, free of hair or band-aids or paper towels, and none of the toilets were clogged. It smelled like girls; a faintly sweet, flowery smell. It was amazing. "Wow..." he said out loud, letting out a breath and hearing his voice echo. "Wow!"

But something the boys' bathroom didn't have caught his eye. There was a vending machine of some sort on the wall. He drew closer to examine it...

"Uhm. Is that you, Danny?" came a voice from the last stall.

He froze, his eyes darting back and forth. It sounded like a girl. Wait, he was in the wrong bathroom; of course it would be a girl. He couldn't speak for fright, and momentarily forgot he could disappear and go through walls.

The stall door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out, glaring daggers. "Danny! I knew it was you, what the heck do you think you're doing?!"

"Sam, I..." he said and shut up suddenly, afraid to incriminate himself.

Sam glanced at the thing on the wall next to him and smirked. "You're wondering about that?" she asked as she washed her hands.

Danny wondered if she wanted a response. Awkward! "Um, kind of..."

"It's okay, I'll tell you. It's a gumball machine. It's kind of expensive—50 cents—but it's girls' privilege. Don't tell a soul!" she warned.

The ghost boy just stared at Sam, trying to take it all in. "Okay..."

Sam smiled suddenly, a change from her stern and serious look. "Well, what are you staring at me for? The mystery is answered. Time's up!"

Danny smiled back bewilderedly as he floated slowly to the door.

Sam laughed at his adorable expression. "Go!" she said, and pushed him through the door. She didn't follow though, but stayed behind for a while, laughing at his gullibleness and her wit, having kept another boy from the truth about girls.

Danny zoomed back to his class with twenty seconds to spare. He walked in, fully human and sat down, and no one took notice. He breathed another sigh of relief, then lost himself in contemplation of what had just happened. Sam hadn't been mad, she'd been happy to tell him about the thing on the wall, and made it seem like a joke. He half-wished he could use the girls' bathroom; it was so clean and beautiful and good smelling.

He slapped his forehead. Never again.

* * *

_I think it was kinda "a lot of stuff happening in too little words", but ehh. I barely edited it. I could if you would like._

_Yes, in fifth grade some boys got a glimpse of the machine on the wall in the girls' bathroom and somehow got the idea it was a gumball machine. so yeah._


	4. jump the train

**4**

The two of them stood precariously on the edge of the bridge, silhouetted by the moon. A long, darkly decorated circus train rushed along beneath them, stirring up the cold air and raising goosebumps on his arms. The train was coming to an end; its caboose was coming into sight. There was no time to dwell on what they were about to do. He knew it was the only way to save Danny--

"Tucker, jump!" the girl shouted, excitement and fear in her voice mingling.

"I can't, Sam, it's too fast...and the landing's really going to hurt—" he mumbled, looking at the hard, ridged tops of the train's cars, but she grabbed his sweaty hand and held it tight. There would be no escape from her determination. And for a split second he understood why Danny admired and liked her so. She was strong and daring. She was no wimp of a girl, brave in all situations. He had no more time to think about his sudden epiphany. His hand was grasped tighter, if it was possible.

"One, two, THREE!"

He was half-dragged by the hand as he fell from the bridge, a moment slower than her, and just in time his head was forced down by her hand so he wouldn't be decapitated by the bridge. He collapsed in a heap on the roof of the car. Sitting up slowly, making sure there were no more bridges ahead, he rubbed his sore ankle and forearms. It was good they were both wearing boots—he looked over and saw that her purple leggings were ripped at the knee, and it was bleeding and bruised. She must have landed wrong from his added pull. He started to ask if she was okay, but she jumped up and motioned at him to get up. Tucker almost gasped at her immunity to pain, but got up, knowing he was better off than her in terms of health problems.

"We're jumping again," she said, her purple eyes shining like polished jewels in the moonlight. "We'll take a running start. You're okay, right?" Her breathing was a little fast from the thrill, but nothing like Tucker's hyperventilation.

Tucker nodded solemnly. He knew her daring was enough for at least the both of them, and his mind was empty of fear or thought as they ran and leaped over the gaps, one after another. His breathing slowed down as if he was in a dream. He didn't feel the cold forward wind on his face or feel the movement of the speeding train pass beneath his feet, only her strong hand in his, guiding his leaps and runs.


	5. fanfiction

**5:**

"Danny?"

"Mmm...yeah?"

"What would you do if we were stranded on a desert island...or in a snow cave under an avalanche...or locked inside school for the weekend..."

"What...?"

"I know it sounds weird, and awkward, but just tell me."

"That's easy...um...I'd fly us out?"

"That's what I thought."

"...why do you ask?"

"Well...I was bored last night, so I went and surfed for some entertainment."

"What's—"

"A site where fans write fiction, okay? Okay. I went and looked through a few categories, and I eventually found a lot of stories with the same plot. Like this -- show's main couple gets stranded impossibly in an avalanche, or worse, locked in school for the weekend. Something dumb like that. And of course, at the end they get together—"

"You read these to the end?"

"I didn't have to."

"Ahaha! How could it be different? I knew that. Wow. That's pretty pathetic."

"You know those fangirls."

"Actually, I don't, you're the one who'd rather read someone's sick mind's vomit then play Doomed with us—"

"Fangirls are the ones that treat cartoon couples like normal people treat celebrities. They follow them episode-to-episode and do all sorts of crazy stuff..."

"Okay, I get it. So why did you ask me about it?"

"...uh, well, sometimes, my life feels like a cartoon..."

"Pshh, we'd never get locked in school or be stuck someplace remote because I've got ghost powers! Hello!"

"Of course. Your powers don't go on the fritz for no reason, right? Yeah, just checking."

"Is there something you're not telling me about this fanfiction of yours...?"

"Those fangirls make the lamest excuse so the hero can't do a thing about their situation..."

"I'm thinking me and you on a desert island, and my powers shorted out."

"What--! I never said that..."

"That's what you were getting at, all those stories. Don't worry, I'm not going to lose my powers just like that."

"I...not really..."

"Aw, c'mon. Is there a story out there that's like my life? Some kid and his two friends that go to school and the kid is named Danny and has ghost powers and he fights ghosts...is that what gave you that idea?"

"Not ghosts, maybe..."

"Awesome. Can you show me, Sam?"

"Mmm. It's mushy, be warned."

"Not a problem, girlfriend."

* * *

_I did this in a pretty short time, so it might not make much sense. The idea sounded better before I wrote it. Notice the name change and front page revamp and all .>_


	6. closet time

_teehee. I got tired of spin-the-bottle stories so I decided to write about that...there's no way they'd get invited to spinthebottle games with their social status, but i think my story's a little plausible in its way. would danny actually dare do anything in a dark closet alone with his best friend? well, you'll see. I didn't really edit this for flow, so...sorry ._

be sure to tell me which ending you liked better XD

* * *

**6**

"Tucker, I'm not sure about this."

"Come on, Sam, don't be a party pooper! We're already late!" Tucker smiled, and beckoned them in before him.

Danny, the third member of their small group, sighed and lowered his voice to whisper into Sam's ear. "You've got to admit, his techie friends know how to throw a party. _And _it's his birthday. Cheer up! You'll find converts!"

He straightened up and grinned, knowing she'd have to agree. Ultra-recyclo-vegetarianism was her life's passion at the moment. Sam's face didn't change, but he knew she would stay.

Tucker's friend's house was large, with a good-sized entrance hall and wood-paneled floors. Around the corner on the main floor was a doorway that led to the basement. Tucker gave her a little push in the small of her back. Sam grumbled something at him under her breath and grudgingly began to move. As they all descended the carpeted stairs into the spacious basement, a foosball table was revealed, along with a table of snacks and a door to who-knows-where.

"Not bad, right?" Danny prodded.

"Mikey's got more cool stuff around the corner," Tucker pointed.

Sam shrugged, feeling more gloomy than usual.

The "cool stuff" turned out to be the newest gaming consoles along with three powerful computers, especially for gaming. In a good mood, she'd be dazzled and even excited to play along, but Sam had suddenly realized her two friends had disappeared from her side, and she was surrounded by the buck-toothed, pimply, math-whiz girls. She turned in a slow circle, scanning the busy geek den, calling softly: "Danny...Tucker?"

She spotted Tucker trying out Guitar Hero, while Danny was watching someone's heroic endeavor in Doomed. She'd gotten tired of that game long ago. She just didn't understand boys sometimes...

...or girls. One of the math-whiz girls popped up in front of her and gave her a cheery "hi". Other girls had always stayed away from Sam because of her preferred mode of dress and her attitude, so why was this one so friendly? Her name was Elizabeth, and her long, stringy red hair, buck teeth, and glasses reminded her of a girl she had played with a long time ago, on a recess far away.

Sam focused on the person in front of her, tearing her eyes away from her friends. They'd left her to fend for herself! And in such an alien environment.

"Hi," she said cautiously back.

Elizabeth looked her up and down, and seemed to approve of Sam's outfit. It was gothic-punk, and made her stand out from the majority, who were geeks. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and gave her a sly smile.

What was this? Sam never knew a math-whiz girl that was this forward.

"Good, we're all here," the girl seemed to mutter to herself, then brightened unexpectedly. "Sam, you should sit down with us girls!"

Before Sam could protest vocally or physically, her surprisingly strong yet bony hand had grabbed Sam's wrist and she pulled her down cross-legged on the floor beside her. _Wait...what?_ She didn't understand. But the cold hand on her wrist kept her still.

Sam sat frozen and watched a ritual unfold.

The other kids were assembling, first the girls, then the boys, who seemed to follow the girls' lead. It was like they all had foreknowledge of what was to happen.

They began sitting down in a circle, girl-boy-girl, solemn and quiet. Sam saw her friends being carried with the crowd, and searched their faces for clues to what was happening.

Danny looked just as clueless as she was at the moment. Did he always look so clueless? No, she decided, now was more than usual. She shot him a puzzled glance, and he mirrored it.

"Grrgh," she broke the connection and growled softly, and Elizabeth shushed her.

Tucker's face at first had been confused too, but as he was led to his place, he seemed to remember the ritual, and the corners of his mouth began to rise. He seemed confident now that nothing was wrong, while Sam was getting a worse and worse sense of foreboding. Also, she was impatient to get it over with, whatever these crazy geeks did at parties.

"Bring out the spinner," someone announced in a serious voice, and there were soft giggles from a few younger boys in the back.

Mikey appeared at the top of the stairs, clasping a small blue spinner in his hands—could it be? The spinner from the game "Pretty Pretty Princess"?!

Sam was mortified to realize it was, and also that she remembered playing the game with her parents when she was small.

"That's it, I'm leaving," she announced into the quiet and tried to get up, but the hand on her wrist was an iron clamp. There were knowing smiles all around. All except Danny, who still looked bewildered.

Sam stopped struggling and gave up, pasting an uncooperative look on her face and watching Mikey kneel down and spin the spinner in the center of the waiting circle of people.

She had an awful thought. What if this was spin-the-bottle--?

Oh no. It was. The first spin pointed to Danny, and there were hoots and clapping. He looked scared and alone. Crazily, Sam wanted to be by his side and be alone and scared together—and on the second spin, she got her wish. The little arrow pointed at her, and she was pulled up by the wrist by Elizabeth-iron-clamp-for-a-hand to a standing position and marched through the door that led to who-knows-where.

It was a small, dark closet with a pile of sheets and comforters thrown on the bottom, and Danny and Sam were literally pushed onto it. The door shut, and there was a click.

Sam was grateful for the sheets on the floor that broke her fall, and made it comfortable. It was very dark, and the only light came from the top and bottom of the closet's door.

But this wasn't what she'd come here for! What she _had_ come for, she didn't really know, but she knew it wasn't this.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Endings start here; #1 & #2. You are reading #1...on with the story!**

"Hey," she said, carefully standing up and yelling at the wood in front of her, "who puts locks on closets, anyway?"

She put her ear to the door, trying not to breathe, and heard distant laughter. "Have fun!" a catcaller shouted.

Sam wanted to scream like a screamo band member.

She heard movement on the floor beside her, and could just make out the outline of Danny, whom she'd forgotten had been thrown in with her.

"It's okay, Sam. It's nice and dark, just like you like it," he chuckled.

"What are you _doing_?" Sam demanded.

"Sleeping," Danny replied, snuggling in farther into the comforters and taking up most of the floor space.

She sat down with a _whump_ onto a pile of sheets next to Danny's head. For now, she was okay, as Danny was curled up, taking only a little more than half the space, and because her knees were drawn up to her chin. She stared straight ahead at shadowed wood.

She decided to be bold. "Is this spin-the-bottle or something?"

"I have no idea. Well, actually I do. I think Tucker told me something about this once...his friends have this game of dumping people in a closet with sheets and stuff. It's great for getting to sleep." He yawned and smiled, fluttering his eyes sleepily. Sam had adjusted to the light enough to see that, at least.

"Did you not get enough sleep last night or something...?" she asked, almost whispering instinctively.

"I dunno..."

Sam sighed and shook her head. "Do you want to stay here and sleep, or," she truly whispered now, "phase us out?"

"Let's stay here, Sam. They won't let us out forever. It's how they do it...we miss out on the party, but we get to stay here together..." he mumbled.

She raised her head at the number of times he used the word "us". She couldn't help but giggle. "_As you wish_, Danny."

She'd much rather stay here, in this dark place with a friend, then be out in the chaotic world of geeks. She tugged out a bit of Danny's comforter and laid her head on it so their hair mingled, and pulled her sheets over her body, her knees still bent to fit in the small space.

Almost by magic, she felt immediately drowsy and very comfortable and warm. No wonder Danny was sleepy...it was the recipe for sleep. Sleep took them both, as did blissful dreams that were dreamt and enjoyed and forgotten.

Not until much later was the closet door opened and the light of the room outside was let in. Silent faces stared down at the innocent couple, whispers and giggles and "awww"'s were exchanged, but they did not wake. Soon, all but Tucker and Mikey left for home.

"Danny...Sam..." Tucker said, poking them both in the stomach. The door was still open. It was evening.

They started, eyes wide, like deer in headlights. "Um...uh..."

Tucker smiled warmly. "Time to go home."

Danny and Sam sat up slowly. Danny rubbed his eyes, and Sam smoothed her hair, and they disentangled themselves from the sheets and stood up blearily.

Mikey, in the background, smiled evilly, knowing he had blackmail photos, and Tucker bid Mikey a thank-you and a sorry for all three of them and led them out the door.

The cool night breeze blew in their faces, and finally it broke the closet's spell. Danny and Sam blinked hard several times.

"Geez, what _was_ that?" Tucker said delightedly, hoping for juicy gossip.

Danny shrugged noncommittally. "We fell asleep."

"That's all?"

"Yeah, it was a really nice closet. Like warm milk for the soul."

"You slept together?"

"Tucker, you sick-minded pervert..."

"Kidding. I know you didn't do anything. It was cute. Hey...why didn't you phase her out, dude?"

"I was sleepy," Danny said matter-of-factly.

"Whatever, man!"

As the two friends continued arguing, Sam grinned a secret grin. Danny was adorable when he was half-asleep, and that was enough for her. The memories hadn't been lost.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**here's ending #2! they've just been thrown into the closet.**

"This is so stupid," Sam moaned. Danny sat like her, with his knees up to his chin, to her right.

Neither wanted to acknowledge what they were expected to kiss. Sam sure as heck wasn't going to start anything; that was his job, and she still wasn't quite sure if she wanted that to happen. It would be awkward afterward, and she knew the thrill of a kiss wasn't worth it.

Danny stared straight ahead, thinking about the significance of the blankets strewn over the floor of the closet. If they were for what he thought they were for, Tucker's friends were _dead_ when they got out. How sick could you get? He could only hope they'd get out soon. He had never felt so awkward and empty of things to say in his life.

"So," Sam said bravely, "how long do you think we'll be stuck here?"

"I don't know..."

"Yeah. Me neither."

A minute passed in silence.

Danny grinned at his inspiration.

"Ninety-nine bottles of Sprite on a wall, ninety-nine bottles of Sprite!" he sang, purposely off-key to annoy the spectators outside. They didn't seem to notice. Maybe they were all as off-key as Tucker, and maybe they didn't care he was singing that particular song.

"Danny!" Sam said sharply, laughing, a warning for him to stop. Then she added, "You can sing better than that, right?"

In the darkness she was adjusting to, she could just make out that he was nodding his head and holding back some serious laughs. "Much better, definitely," he whispered hoarsely, and burst out chuckling.

Sam smiled wryly at his antics, and it was quiet again.

Two more minutes passed.

"Am I more than you bargained for yet? Oh, don't worry I'm watching you two from the _closet_..." Sam sang a Fallout Boy song out of the blue, her voice hard and clear and hinting at their situation, and as she cut off at _closet_, she heard laughter.

Danny laughed too at the sound of her voice, and fell silent again.

Four more minutes passed, and they listened to each other's breathing grow in sync, staying perfectly still and silent but for breathing.

The door was pulled open abruptly with a great noise. "AH-HA!" Tucker yelled, but all he saw were his two friends sitting with their knees up to their chins, not touching in the least, looking up at him bemusedly.

"Woe upon me!" Tucker cried dramatically. "Not even _this_ could get them together!"

The crowd applauded at his performance, and Danny and Sam blushed at the implications.

Sam remembered herself in time, and jumped up, ready to fight. "Tucker! _I am going to kill you!_" She chased him up the stairs, her anger dissolving into laughter. Danny got up more slowly, and climbed the stairs to watch. Mikey came and stood beside him.

"So," he said. Danny jumped. "You've robbed me of blackmail photos!"

Danny stared at him. "Wha..."

"I can't believe you two!" Mikey shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. "You guys are impossible! Nothing's ever going to happen! Geez!"

He looked like Rumpelstiltskin now, pacing in a circle, faster and faster. Danny ignored the little nerd and watched his friends return. What did he want happen? He was only in ninth grade. Things, he knew, would happen, but it didn't have to be now.

Right now, he reflected, it was good just to hang out and have fun with his two best friends. He said goodbye and thank you to Mikey and was about to gather his friends and go, but Tucker wanted to stay and play Guitar Hero a bit more. ("At this rate, I'll be able to play a real guitar in no time! _Rockstaarrrr!_")

So it was just him and Sam, and now in the open air of the streets, he felt like he could talk to her about anything. Not like the closet. And that's what they did, and after he bid her good night on her doorstep, he lingered only a moment longer than usual, thinking of what could be.


	7. iceheart rewrite ch 1

_This is actually the new Iceheart's chapter 1...tentatively. I rather like it...it's vastly different from the first attempt at the fanfic and has a more dreamlike, fairy-tale feel and strays a little further from the original fairytale (the necklace, the bat-cat, you'll see.) Chapter two is proving hard to write, and now I'll be almost completely away from home until August (except for a few days)... poo. I'll have time for ideas though, plenty of time :) see you soon!_

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**7**

Even as I hold this little wonder of a necklace in my hands, I still don't quite believe it.

Just a few days ago it was the sparkling icy gem Danny had made for me with his new power after the Undergrowth attack. I remember him gently closing my fingers over it, and it felt cool in my warm hand. It didn't melt, though, and I spent that night awake stroking it and marveling at its amazing similarity to a diamond.

The next morning, I found myself tucked into my bed, snug and warm, but the crystal was gone. Had my parents been in my room? I silently wondered, but said nothing about it, and tried to forget about it. Maybe it had just melted after all.

Two days later, it came back.

"_You two and your _phantom romance_ going on, you think I don't know? I _saw _that little jewel—"_

"_Shut up," I said, stony-faced._

"_Whoa, Tuck, that reminds me," Danny said, his sheepish expression disappearing. "I fixed it!"_

_Out of his jeans pocket, he pulled out the crystal I'd so missed – except it now glowed faintly green. I saw that it also now had a small round hole in the top of one of its points, and a simple black leather cord had been strung through it. A necklace, and a gift for me!_

"_I know your birthday is next week, but I decided to give it to you now anyway," he said, unabashed and smiling. "Look, I fused some ectoplasm in it so the cold ice and hot ectoplasm are in equilibrium – it will never melt!"_

_Tucker immediately forgot about his teasing and shifted into chemistry-genius mode. "Wait, how does that work? They can't exist together like that –"_

"_Apparently, they can. How it works, I don't know, you're the one who's good at chemistry..."_

_While they began a lively discussion of the possibility (or impossibility) of ectoplasm and ice fusing together at the molecular level, I eyed it carefully before tying it around my neck. Its center seemed to glow and swirl like the ghost zone itself, except all green and silver and smoky. I fingered it where it lay between my collarbones: it was slightly warm to the touch. A miracle. Just another of the amazing and undiscovered properties of the element Ectoplasm._

On the day of my birthday, I ended up at Danny's house after school. "I can't stay long," I told them. "My parents are no doubt planning a huge dinner party for my advancement to official socialite age and status."

"Sweet sixteen," Tucker said sympathetically. "At least you get cool presents from us!"

Danny's family turned out to be quite involved with my birthday celebration. Jazz baked a cake, which I knew would be good, as she is a good cook, but her mom had made the frosting for it and it was glowing, which is a sure sign ecto-contamination. It was a case of ecto-acne just waiting to happen if ingested, and I wasn't about to eat it.

Tucker picked up on this, and saved the day by thrusting his present in my face. It was humungous, and of course, not gift-wrapped. One, it was too big, and two, I think gift wrap wastes paper.

I stumbled back, clutching the thing in my arms. "Tucker, what—"

I held it at arm's length and realized it wasn't so big after all. It was a strangely light but large stuffed black cat, with black bat wings, about three-quarters as long as I was tall. Its deep purple eyes were intelligent-looking, and its wings were tinged dark green at the joint, but that was all—the rest of it was pure black and short-furred. It was abstract, cuddly, definitely _cute._ It even included my favorite colors! **A/N: Gaia users, think CoCo Kitty with purple eyes, and bat wings. That's basically it.**

"Wow, Tucker!" I exclaimed as I hugged her close. "She's beautiful! Thanks a lot!"

Tucker grinned and said, "You're welcome."

"I already gave Sam her present – she's wearing it," Danny pointed out. The other Fentons crowded around me and ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the gem at my neck.

"Peculiar...I've never seen anything like it. Where did you get it?" asked Mrs. Fenton.

There was a sudden silence.

"Umm, uh...the thrift store?" Danny blurted. Everyone laughed, and he blushed harder, but at least the matter was dropped. "We'll let that remain a mystery, then," Mrs. Fenton added, winking at me.

Unfortunately, Mr. Fenton wasn't so tactful. "Well done, son, you're buying her jewelry already?"

Danny groaned audibly, while I looked down in shame, my cheeks burning hot. Jazz was hiding a smile behind a hand, but Tucker was snickering, as was typical in these sorts of situations. He's adorkably funny and too handy with gadgets to lose, so we keep him around. Really. Yeahh...—no, he really is a loyal and true friend. Just a little tease-happy. We love him as he is.

"No...ugh, you know what? Next present, if you guys have one for Sam!" Danny said loudly.

"Why sure!" Mr. Fenton said cheerily, and presented me with something in ghostly giftwrap. It was neatly wrapped: probably a female Fenton's work. I would recycle the paper later. It was shaped like an ectogun, and that's exactly what it was. "Newest model! Smallest and most powerful we've got," Mr. Fenton told me. I thanked them heartily. Tucker immediately seized it at his first chance and pored over it with Danny.

"Hey! What happened to the _cake_? Don't you want some, Sam?" Mr. Fenton asked.

"Uh, no thanks, I have to go home now, it's really late," I said quickly. "Feed it to the garbage disposal and think of me!"

Oh, that was rude. I grabbed my bat-cat and shut the front door quickly, but then opened it again for a split second to shout, "You guys can bring that ectogun over tomorrow if you want!"

When I opened the door to my own house, my dear mother was sitting in the sitting room right next to the door. "Samantha dear, you're home finally, you have to get ready for tonight's dinner party – good heavens, what is that?"

"My birthday present," I said, starting up the stairs, hooking the bat-cat's paws around my neck. "Please, don't make me stay for the _wonderful_ conversation."

"Samantha!"

My door slammed. I flopped on my bed and stroked my new cuddle buddy a little. You're never too old to play with a well-deserving toy. I loved how it was firm, and not like a beanie baby. Its stomach made a very nice pillow besides. I put my head on it and stared at my open wardrobe, trying to decide whether to wear the black evening gown or the purple one. Those were the only ones I would agree to wear to a dinner occasion out of my wardrobe. All the rest were ones my mother had gotten me: all flounce and lace and Barbie pink. Floral patterns, too. I know it's supposedly in style now, but these floral patterns aren't the same. These are bold pink and yellow daisies; the style now is more abstract, dark, and varied. I've tried to explain it to her, but she says all flowers are the same.

I decided on the purple. It was my birthday; and I was feeling happier than black. I quickly changed and lay back down with my bat-cat, suddenly remembering I had school tomorrow. I relaxed when I remembered I'd finished it in class.

At that moment, the warm little jewel at my neck went from warm to boiling in a nanosecond, searing my skin, then as painfully cold as dry ice, and finally settled at a cold temperature, so that it looked _and_ felt like a finely-cut piece of ice. The soft green glow of the ectoplasm within had all but disappeared. The cold only slightly soothed the small red jewel-shaped burn between my collarbones. It had all happened in about two seconds, and I barely had had time to put my hand to my chest to feel it.

"What..." I said dazedly, still hurting from the burns that necklace had given me. How did it burn me like that? And why?

I was still stupefied when my cellphone rang. It was unfortunately blatantly bubblegum pink, but my mother said "pink or nothing", and so it was.

I answered it, knowing by the ringtone it was Tucker.

"Hiya," I said cautiously.

"SAM!" came a frantic voice on the other end. "Please get over here fast, something came out of the portal and shattered – Danny's hurt. Come now, stay on, I'll tell you on the way!"

"What – okay! I'm coming now! Hang on!" I said, jolted from my lazy position. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and gave my bat-cat a quick hug goodbye. I stuffed my feet in my usual combat boots – dinner party or not – and ran down the stairs two at the time and suddenly realized I was in my favorite dress. Ugh! Dress or not, I had to get to my friends. I lifted my scooter from the hallway closet and found myself face to face with my tall, blond father. "Samantha, the guests will be here in fifteen minutes. What are you doing?"

"Following the golden rule," I shot back, sidling by him and pushing my scooter out the door first. "Dinner party or not, they would rush to my side like I'm doing now."

I dashed down the front steps and roared into the night on my scooter, forgoing my helmet completely.

"All right, Tucker, brief me," I said into the phone clutched in my left hand. It was a late November evening, so the wind was cold and biting, and I knew snow was near. "Brrrr."

"He was releasing the ghost we caught this morning. Old Boxy, as usual, yeah? The split-second when the portal opens to accept the contents of the thermos, this thing comes flying into the lab, explodes on the floor, and one of the pieces gets into Danny's eye and one into his chest."

"No!" I said, disbelieving. What are the chances? How bad was he hurt, was it bleeding bad?

One more block to go. Soon my goosebumps should subside.

"Yeah! So that's how I found him, screaming because it hurt so bad, and there was broken blue glass everywhere. No blood, though, that was really weird. I couldn't see anything in his eye – yet he swears it went in. I grabbed a thermos and vacuumed the mess of glass shards all up for safety's sake. We can look at it later, maybe."

"Anything that hurts like that yet doesn't make you bleed is a bad sign."

"It definitely is," he replied.

I had arrived at Danny's house. I ran up the front steps and leaned it against the wall. I don't think I'd torn my dress at all, but why did that matter at a time like this? "I'm at the door," I said, and knocked. Tucker opened the door.

"He says it doesn't hurt anymore."

The Fentons were all crowded around Danny, asking what had happened and was he sure he was okay. He seemed calm, but looked like he'd had a shock.

I wanted to go ask him if he was all right too, but he was too thickly surrounded. Tucker and I just stood there, watching the flustered family, with me standing awkwardly in a purple evening gown and wind-blown hair. Finally, Danny sat up straighter and said angrily, "Look, here's what I think happened. Something flew in through the portal, shattered, and pieces got in my eye and chest, but _it's gone now_. Like it dissolved or something. I feel fine! Really!"

Tuck held up a thermos. "I have the evidence right here," he offered.

Mr. Fenton was not convinced. "If it came from the ghost zone, it's dangerous! You could be possessed by a ghost! Let's run a few tests!"

"Um, no, dad," Danny said, edging away from him. "I'm fine! Okay?"

He sounded angrier and more annoyed than he'd ever been. Also, his manner was really bothering me. He'd been in this sort of potential-discovery-of-secret situation before, but he'd never reacted so spitefully. A tinge of uneasiness, combined with my initial worry about his safety and well-being, churned my stomach. I fingered my necklace nervously, and the cool unfamiliarity of it shocked me. I was so used to it being warm! I remembered the searing feeling and the change in the necklace. I looked at Danny, remembering his accident: were the two incidents connected? The instant it burned me, had Danny been hurt? I realized I was squinting at Danny and tried to relax.

I opened my mouth to say anything, anything at all, to break the terrible silence, but in the instant I realized I had nothing to say, my phone rang again. The ringtone was a strong, blustery, minor-key Brahms orchestra piece, to reflect my parents' personality and music preference. "Yes?" I sighed into the mouthpiece.

"Samantha, return home at once! The guests are waiting!" screeched my mother.

I did not answer; only flipped the phone closed and held it. I could not think of anything to say to this Danny I had such a strange feeling about. My shoulders slumped, thinking of my dinner plans. "Well...Danny, Tucker...I have to go. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Tucker waved goodbye sympathetically, but Danny said nothing.

I turned tail and rode home quickly, but not as fast as I had come.

"Your hair is a mess, young lady! Where have you been?"

I stared off to one side, too emotionally and mentally exhausted to be defiant. "Danny's house. He hurt himself bad." _More than just bad_. I knew it couldn't be just a temporary physical complaint. Pain that came and went like a _ghost_. Excuse the pun.

"Grammar, Samantha. And that's not a good reason to be late for dinner. Now go wash your hands and sit down politely, and make conversation with the Turners like you've been taught."

I obeyed without much protest for once; my spunk used up for the night. I ate less than my usual small portion of vegan food, and luckily, I was so silent and compliant I slipped upstairs to my room without them noticing. Maybe it was just because our guests had their hands full entertaining their bratty little son, Timmy. I slowly changed into my pajamas, washed my feet, and got into bed...but couldn't sleep. I glanced at my bat-cat, my rounded, adorable, enormous plushie, lying on the floor, and finally pulled her up beside me. Wrapping my arms around her, I closed my eyes and rested my head against her shoulder, and eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	8. curiosity

**8**

Curiosity killed the cat.

Curiosity can't kill me. Why? I'm already dead, I guess you could call it. I came back to haunt my high-school tormentors after a freak accident involving a common wall socket. Please don't ask. The halfa turned my high-school existence happy, but I realized I now had eternity to indulge my raging _curiosity_ about everything. Fact is, curiosity nearly made me alive again. But not quite.

Bullies gone, my high school behind me, I now wondered what the halfa was up to – in his proper place, humble, not bullying people? I could take only so much school. I took a break and went to look for – Danny, that was his name. Danny Fenton. I drifted through the ghost zone, and with the help of a portly ghost continually surrounded with boxes, I found his home, complete with a legendary portal! Things couldn't have been better. I might have had to wait for a natural portal to open up, but this was too good – a door to my world whenever one pleased. Much better than my old locker mirror.

I was contemplating its octagonal shape with it opened up in front of me. I seized my chance and drifted forward, only to have its twin jaws slam shut on my middle. It was unspeakable pain and the feeling of breaking apart, lightning coursing through every ectoplasmic molecule.

When I woke up, I was on the other side.

The other side of the portal, I mean. I can't die again; that would be silly. The door was closed, the room was dark, and every inch of me hurt. I tried to sit up on the cold floor, only to see the halfa himself there, gaping like a goldfish.

"Poindexter?" he said. He looked older. At least a few years, and his voice had deepened beyond recognition.

"Yeah, that's my name," I said grandly. I pushed myself up on my elbows. They smarted, and my eyes watered slightly.

He squinted at me.

"You look different," I said, coughing, trying to make conversation, "Old buddy old pal."

"_You _look different," he said, still squinting. Jeepers! He was starting to give me the creeps.

"I'm ageless, forever sweet sixteen," I said, then finally looked down at what he was staring at: my hand. It was somehow milky transparent and peach colored.

I'm one of those rare ghosts that are colorless; all in greyscale, a cosmic printer's mistake. Not mistake; I'm a shadow of the past. We're different types of ghosts. So pale and dull that our ghost appearances reflect our short, sad lives, or parts of it.

I must have made a funny noise, because Danny told me to stay while he got me a mirror. Had he known how insanely curious I was to see my face now? I hadn't seen my ugly mug since—

I gazed into the clear glass and gasped aloud. I nearly looked like my live, kicking self – my body had color all over and my ghostly aura had diminished. Furthermore, the strange opacity of my skin lent me a more human glow. I felt more solid. It felt different, of course, but also unnatural. Not even as a human had I had this sensation of both weightlessness and solidity.

Danny was looking away now. He sat with his long legs up to his chest, his gangly frame hunched over. The way he didn't match my memory of him was strange. I've always had a good memory.

Applying my good memory as I looked at myself, I realized something had changed since I'd been nearly sliced in half by his portal.

"You're not going to fight me, are you?" Danny asked suddenly.

"Of course not! We're buddy old pals. I told you so."

"If I didn't know better," he said carefully, "I'd say you look half-alive."

"HA—"

"No! Listen. The way you changed – it was like how I was changed. I was caught in the portal. It changed me half-ghost."

"No way I'm half-ghost, I'm all ghost! Boo! Fear me!"

"You've truly changed in substance, Poindexter, I think literally. Think! You changed on the threshold of ghost and human, life and death. Half dead? Half ghost? Definitely not a halfa like me, but are you more alive now than then, like a shadow of when you were truly alive? Did that thing half-resurrect you?"

I listened, fear taking root in my heart. Apprehension rose in my throat. "S-Such grand words, Danny," I choked out. I was unsure now, shaken by his words. "You need to join the speech club—"

He was relentless, his blue eyes intense, boring into mine with such force it was nearly painful. Yet there was sympathy deep inside, but well-hidden. His voice was softer than before. "What are you, Poindexter? Dead? Alive? Neither?"

I was silent as I trembled. The sympathy disappeared.

"Aren't you curious?"


	9. death of a trio

_here you go, a purely stream-of-consciousness thing. poor tucker, he's so unappreciated. seriously, what's his viewpoint? not saying this is it, but it could happen._

* * *

"_Poke."_

_Samantha jabbed a sharp-nailed finger into her best friend Danny's side. _

_Danny half-jumped up in surprise and turned around. "Hey!"_

_Sam smiled innocently, even cutely at him. _

_He grinned and poked her in the same place. "Poke."_

_Sam giggled and poked him twice in his stomach, which wasn't so soft anymore. "Poke poke."_

_Danny smiled and poked Sam thrice this time, just above her hips where she was most ticklish and where she stored what little fat she had. "Poke poke poke."_

Tucker sighed, a lonesome sound, watching his two friends flirt innocently from some distance away. He had some minutes before lunch officially ended. Not enough to log on to a computer somewhere and lose himself, and it was too early to walk into a classroom and sit down to wait for the bell. And today, he just didn't feel like killing the time with his PDA. Instead, he gazed right through his friends, down the hallway, and through the doors beyond.

The inevitable had finally happened, what he'd teased them about, hinted at, whispered about, all these years, had come to pass.

They'd confessed their feelings to each other!

At first he'd been happy, so happy for his friends, enjoying watching the two of them overcome their awkwardness. But after a while, it worked almost too well. Danny spent the majority of his time hanging out with Sam…the time not spent ghost hunting, of course. And even then Sam would want to come along, and he would set her down on a rooftop somewhere while he battled. And he would just be a back-up, standing firmly on the ground, because he was afraid of heights.

It was hard not to feel envious…jealous…left out…

_They don't need me_.

Tucker focused once again on Danny and Sam. She was playing with his shaggy bangs, and he let her do so good-naturedly. "I'll see you guys," Tucker mumbled, knowing they couldn't hear him, but feeling slighted all the same that they didn't respond.

-----

Sometimes, being Mayor sucked. Every day after school, there would be some paperwork waiting for him to read over, consider, or some numbers to call, decisions to make, committees to visit. He finished this all right, always, but he was never left with more than three hours of free time in the whole afternoon and evening. That meant less time with his friends…were they his friends anymore?

And sometimes it rocked. As Mayor, he was most known for his successful fight to change the school start time to 9:00 am, and have it let out at 4:00 pm. He'd shown the school board all the studies that declared teenagers learned better when school started later. That gained him about three weeks' worth of popularity, before he just became an ordinary kid again.

In the crush of his temporary popularity he'd noticed some stayed on after the initial wave. Those kids were mainly Valerie, Mikey, and the class geeks. They weren't half-bad. If things ever got too divided between him and Danny and Sam…

The next day he left his house for school, accustomed to either Danny or Sam walking down the street toward him and joining him or her. This morning, there was no one. A plastic bag blew across the empty sidewalk. The browning trees dropped a few leaves on him, and a chilly breeze touched his cheek. He shivered. He was alone.

He walked to school alone, visited his locker and entered his first class alone. He sat down in his seat next to Danny, who was busy passing notes to Sam and the people around him. Danny didn't even seem to notice, not once through the whole period.

At break, Sam waved cheerily before disappearing around a corner, hand-in-hand with Danny. As a pair, they were much attention-grabbing, he supposed, because some of the marginally popular kids followed, chattering and questioning. Tucker let them go, like a passing parade.

He ate lunch by himself, under a strong old tree. Its dead, brittle oak leaves rained down on him gradually as he finished eating and continued to sit there numbly, pulling up the grass beside him blade by blade. Danny and Sam were nowhere to be seen.

In the middle of sixth period they ran into the classroom, out of breath and embarrassed, yet still happy. Nothing could hurt them. "We forgot the time," Danny told Mr. Lancer, but all Mr. Lancer did was smile knowingly, nod, and say, "Sit down, you two lovebirds. I'll forgive you this time. It's about time something wild happened around here…" and he launched into poetry about first love and running free.

Where had they gone, anyway?

Probably Danny had taken the liberty to fly them both to the park. And then they probably poked themselves silly so they lost track of time.

Mr. Lancer was now describing lovey-dovey poetry (it was, after all, their poetry unit), but Danny and Sam weren't blushing in the least, instead, they were glowing.

Tucker rested his chin on his hand and was rapidly losing respect for Mr. Lancer and his friends, wishing Clockwork would make this class end at that moment. Now. NOW. Please. Oh please. Dangit.

Tucker cornered his friends after school. "Hey, guys."

"Oh hey, Tucker!" Danny greeted. "Where have you been all day?"

A shadow of anger passed over Tucker's face. "Around. Where did you go at lunch?" he asked carelessly.

Sam laughed a little. "We went to the park to have lunch."

Tucker was expressionless. "That's…cool."

All of a sudden he had nothing to say to these aliens in front of him. He wished they would disappear so it wouldn't be so awkward. But did they even realize how awkward they were being?

Tucker's wish was granted. Danny's ghost sense went off. "Oh, shoot. Gotta go, I'll see you later!"

And like they'd been rehearsing or something, as soon as Danny gasped at his bluish breath, Sam had hopped onto his back and clung to his neck in a piggyback stance. And just after Danny had said his goodbyes, he transformed, no longer caring who saw, and shot off into the sky. It had all taken less than 7 seconds.

Tucker stood there, feeling strangely dead inside, staring at the now-empty sky.

That's it. That's it, he told himself. I'm getting new friends. They only need each other. And how is a guy supposed to survive without some real friends, huh?

That night, he didn't do much of anything after finishing his mayoral duties and what little homework he had. He killed time and prevented reflection of the day's events by playing Halo for four hours, being careful to block his online status. He was invisible. He was a ninja. A creature of shadows. He didn't need friends…

The next day he woke up feeling pretty good, but that changed when he remembered there would be no friendly face at his door. He was certain.

But there was. A slim figure stood beside his front steps, waiting. It was Sam, just her, alone. From this distance and due to him peeking out from the miniscule peephole in the door, he couldn't tell what her face was like. Expectant? Sorrowful? Annoyed?

What he wouldn't give for ghost powers to hide him, to slip past her and be at school at an instant. The back door would have to do.

All that day he avoided them just as they had ignored him. It was payback time. At lunch he sauntered over to the geeks' table and was given a fairly warm welcome. He fit in quickly. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it was good enough. By the end of lunch he felt pretty good.

A week passed. Valerie had taken to sitting with him at the geek table. Actually, she simply moved her chair so she was exactly between the geek table and the valedictorian table, which was much more respectable and quite nice about the social hierarchy. He could understand why Danny had liked her (it pained him to think about him), she was intelligent, had a rather sarcastic wit, and was definitely not shallow. But he could tell she was curious about something, and when it was revealed he could have kicked himself for forgetting.

"So Tucker, you want to be my partner on the English project?"

"The one about Frankenstein's monster? The one where you have to research and report on what people think he looks like and what he actually is described as? And…draw your own version?"

"Yeah, what _other_ project? It sounds really cool. I know you're good at researching and stuff. I could draw the pictures and write some descriptions!"

"Sounds great…thanks, Valerie, I definitely need a partner on this one."

Her teal eyes focused on mine, like a hawk. "What about Danny or Sam?"

"What…about them?"

"Don't you always group up with them?"

"Yeah, but…well, I'm…um…I wanted to be your partner instead?" he tried lamely, in an effort to distract from the issue at hand and win her affection in one go.

"That's sweet, Tuck, but there's more to it than that. Did you guys have a fight?"

"Val…you say it like we were dating or something."

"Your inseparable trio breaking up is serious business. Sometimes I wonder if I should have broken it by asking Danny out…I don't know. Never mind. I mean, it just seems like you've been feeling down and you don't eat lunch with them anymore."

"I eat lunch with you now," he pointed out.

"No! I mean yes, but come on. Admit it. They're pretty much dating now and you feel left out."

"…yeah." He sighed, looking down at the remains of his piece of pizza, and turned it facedown on his napkin. He was suddenly not hungry.

"I thought so." She made a disappointed sound when she didn't spot Danny and Sam in the lunchtime crowd. "Did they fly off somewhere?"

"Probably," he said. He felt close to tears, being mothered by this…_girl_. "I guess I need new friends. Come on, Valerie…I'm not trying to be mean, but it's not really your business."

She stared him down hard then, and any extra liquid that could have been a tear immediately dried up. "Okay," she said at last. "I won't do anything."

Valerie had a lot of ghost hunting to do on the weekend, but she and Tucker managed to finish a nice poster to fulfill their project assignment. Valerie approved. "You are so organized!" she praised Tucker. "And your picture of Frankenstein's monster is amazing," he replied. "Thanks," she smiled, and he smiled back.

The class's projects were posted on the wall side by side. With a sinking feeling in his gut Tucker surveyed the posters and found Danny and Sam's right next to his and Valerie's. Valerie had done a good job, but Sam…Sam's work was unmatched. Danny's handwriting, always looking neat, balanced, and a little rushed, paired with Sam's detailed art perfectly. Tucker felt cheated. Tucker wanted to rip both posters off the wall. But he didn't, for Valerie's sake, and his grade average's sake.

Another week passed. Tucker began to sense fleeting glances from Danny sometimes, during lunch, or boring classes like math. He also saw Danny and Sam whispering together now, close together and stealing looks at him. Something was coming for him. He wondered what it was.

He did not tell Valerie.

It was two more days before it happened. Tucker was at his desk, reading some editorials in the newspaper. A good mayor had to keep up with the times. Suddenly at his window, something black, white, and black again appeared. Tucker looked up. It was Danny, and in his arms he carried Sam.

Danny knocked twice on his window. Tucker seemed to consider, staring hard at those glowing green eyes, and those deep purple eyes. Then he gave a slight nod. Danny phased noiselessly through the window and deposited Sam on Tucker's bed, then with a brief flash of white light detransformed.

Tucker waited.

At last, a quiet "Hey, Tuck" from Sam. She looked up at him, and her eyes were shining, but not with joy.

"Hey," he said equally quiet.

"Tucker," Danny said suddenly, loudly. "We totally abandoned you. I…" and he stopped.

Tucker leaned back in his chair with a creak. "Yeah, I understand. Can't interrupt the lovebirds on their honeymoon."

Sam dipped her head a little lower.

"I'm sorry," Danny choked out.

"What do you want?" Tucker asked blatantly.

"Forgiveness?" Sam said. "Yeah. That and, I want to apologize on behalf of both of us for being so…self-absorbed."

"I've got Valerie now. It's okay." He said flatly. He wanted to say "You're forgiven" but he couldn't, not right now. It was too easy to make them squirm and wince with cutting words, right when they were most vulnerable.

"Tucker, the 'honeymoon' stage is over. We're back down to earth where we belong. We have finally seen the error of our ways!" Sam burst out suddenly. "Please, Tucker, forgive me," she said.

"It was my fault. It was my idea to fly away for lunch all the time," Danny said.

"So what's this stage called? This phase you're going through?"

"It's called _we're stupid_! We messed up! We missed you!" Sam said loudly. She stood up and marched over to Tucker. "We are stupid! We're not worthy…" there were tears escaping from her eyes. She gazed at him, then grabbed him and squeezed him tightly. "Tucker…" she whispered.

After a while he put his arms around her too. She let go after a few moments and dropped her hands to her sides, looking hopeless. "Tucker, please, I'm begging you."

Danny still sat on the bed, looking dazed and unable to do anything. It was so much harder for boys to explode in an expression of emotion.

Tucker stared at them seriously. "Okay, you guys, okay. You're forgiven. Just…keep the PDA to yourself."

"The what?" Danny perked up. "Not your baby…?"

"Public Displays of Affection."

"Okay…" Danny said, and blushed fiercely. So did Sam.

Tucker watched them both, familiarizing himself again with the nuances of their body language. It would take time, but their relationship would heal…and soon he would be able to tease them once again about how they were so in love they wouldn't notice -- wouldn't notice Vlad in a clown suit if he swooped in front of them!

Now, _that_ was good.

He smiled. Valerie would approve.


	10. futuresight

**10**

_Do you, Samantha Manson, take him as your lawful and wedded husband? And do you, Daniel Fenton, take her as your lawful and wedded wife?_

_I do._

_I do._

So it was done, and scant weeks after, he was gone.

He asked me if I could handle being an army wife of sorts, yet not quite. I said yes. I said a thousand times yes, and he smiled and kissed me deep. He warned me he could be gone for long stretches at a time but I told him I would be fine. I would miss him, love him, wait for him, until he came back, and all the while keep house and tell the children stories, and when he returned all would be joy.

Our baby boy would be born nine months later. He has no knowledge of his existence. Sweet Jacob has not ever seen his father but in photographs and stories. Jacob has never asked where his father is now. He's still too young to understand that he's missing a parent.

I hold him close sometimes, kiss his forehead, and wonder. Jacob is the image of his father. The same unruly black hair, and those deep, beautiful blue eyes make me shed bittersweet tears and gaze into space, wishing I could see through dimensions. Because it is very possible he is in the other place, the place we call the ghost zone, filled with spirits and ghosts of all sorts and varying levels of decency. He was a fighter for the human plane, and crossed over back and forth routinely. It was his work. It was all nothing to him.

--

Jake is fourteen today. It's a fateful year in my memory. Jake keeps asking me what's wrong when I pause to stare out the window and my face looks unusually set, like I'm hiding something. And as usual, his intuition is correct. I am. Just this past year Jake had smartened up and started asking questions about Danny that I don't want to answer.

_Mom, what was Dad's job?_

_How did you meet?_

_Where is he now?_

He's so bright. He's as hardworking as Danny was a daydreamer in junior high. I tell him these answers:

_He was a trucker. He was on the road a lot. One day he disappeared, his CB radio lost contact, and they never found him._

_College, of course. _

_No one knows. He's reported missing in the national missing persons' foundation._

Only the last answer is true. I couldn't tell him he was a dimension-hopper, a phantasm, a man that was all human and at the same time, all ghost. A story for the tabloids that was, for once, true. We never told anyone. The dead, the ghosts, the crazy ones know, I know, Tucker knows, his sister knows. That is all. It seems unfair to keep it from him. I just don't know how he would take it.

Jake sits at the table, doodling something with broad, graceful wings and a sinewy tail. His dark hair falls over his eyes. He has talent. I haven't picked up a pencil or a paintbrush since Danny left. I won't be able to until he returns. I watch him from the opposite side of the table where I'm pretending to make up a grocery list. One of these days I should get a job, now that Jake's old enough to stay at home...but I just don't think I could leave him.

I find my mind wandering again as I stare at my list without comprehension. I lose myself in memories I desperately keep alive with the pictures in my scrapbook and journals from high school. I overanalyze every quirk of his I mentioned in my journals, every switch and meter reading in the lab photos. Again I wonder if Danny's powers and abilities were genetic – what am I saying? _Are_! I know he's alive.

Something happened that day, I reason, something happened to his DNA. Something ghostly merged with his body that day, something of the pervasive ectoplasm not of this world. Suddenly it all sounds like a comic book. I keep going, though. My mind doesn't want to stop. Suppose Jake inherits his power? If he had even half of Danny's power it would be enough to protect the city easily. If he had Danny's power he could get into the ghost zone. If he had Danny's power he might be able to find him. If only that boomerang hadn't broken in an explosion in the Fentons' lab... If he had Danny's power he could contact Clockwork. He could send for help. But in the fourteen years since Danny had gone, the ghost zone has become hostile, with no intermediary. But Jake could do something...what if...

I shake my head and the vision dissipates like steam. I grab my pen and frown once again at my list, my train of thought completely off the tracks, distracted by Danny once again. Jake looks up at me curiously, but as he's watching me, I see his pencil fall through his hand.

* * *

_I have no idea if those wedding vows are accurate. Another thing I wanted to add in was something about Orpheus and his love but I...didn't, oh well._

_It's been a while, hasn't it? It just feels like it. I haven't done anything on Missingno for a long time, but I tried rewriting Iceheart for the third time. Well, that turned out okay, I might continue...but not really too soon. Senior year is worse than junior year, I'm discovering...and being part of my school's Madrigal is going to eat up my December and maybe even November. Stay tuned! Maybe I'll manage to get something out. I REALLY want to get work done on Missingno. Love you guys! Thanks for reading. Tell me what you think._


	11. birds and bees

**11**

Danny was watching _Johnny Test_ on TV.

On the screen, two monster trucks rolled off into the sunset. Seconds later, it showed Johnny riding off into the sunset in a smaller truck as the two trucks watched from the background.

"Look, Sephy, it's a baby monster truck."

"Baby monster twuck?"

"Yeah, looks like the two big trucks got married and had a baby."

"Baby twuck?" Sephy questioned again with wide eyes.

"Hey, Sam! Can cars have kids?" Danny called in the direction of the kitchen.

"What are you watching, Danny? Are you teaching our child bad things?" she called, then appeared in the doorway with a plate of juicy-looking orange sections.

"No!"

"Trying to teach him the birds and the bees already?" Sam asked as she set the plate down on the table.

"No, no, no...even though I'm _really_ looking forward to it..." Danny answered, distracted by Sephy. Sephy jumped off the couch and scampered off to his room, shouting "baby twuck!"

"Sephy! Try not to wake up your little brother!" Danny called. He turned off the TV to cut down on noise, but it was too late. He heard snuffling from the other room. "I'll get it," he volunteered.

It didn't take too long for them to calm down the baby. They retreated to the table and shared the plate of oranges together. "Good oranges," he said.

"Sunny has been really sweet and generous this year," Sam smiled.

"Beats the store anyday. I'll take some to Sephy."

He peered into Sephy's room to find that he had paired up all his monster trucks in twos, and given each pair a smaller car. "Baby twuck," Sephy giggled.

Sam came up behind him. "Care to explain how two gas-guzzlers make a hybrid?" she said, pointing to a "baby" that was actually a toy model of the Honda Prius. "Birds and bees indeed. Ready to tell him?"

"Not yet, love." Danny put his arm around her waist. "He's only just begun. We've only just begun."

* * *

_experimental and abstract i suppose. very short. very not much of anything at all. . johnny test amuses me, but only the old ones, not the new ones - there's a story behind it, not sure what happened to it. canadians did it best. (johnny test is originally a canadian cartoon--) anyway...this is just to say i'm still alive and totally frazzled over Missingno. I have to fix some glitches in the next chapter . hahahaha pun..._


	12. futuresight 2

_people seemed interested. and indeed Futuresight was one of my favorite pieces of writing. I bring you the second installment, acompanion if you will,to that first one. It would do you well to read the first chapter - find the chapter titled "Futuresight" in the drop down chapter selector. :) i hope this fits with the last chapter. tell me if you spot inconsistencies!_

* * *

_No, no, it couldn't be. _But inside I knew it was so. My breath caught in my throat. I looked again at his hand, but it was normal again; Jake looked away from my eyes as he picked up his pencil once more. 

Jake had never been clumsy like that. It was the power in him that did it. I was sure of it.

I looked down at my grocery list, which seemed very trivial and far away. It could have been last week's. There was no way I could bring myself to care about the carton of orange juice, the head of lettuce, and the bread I was going to buy now. I crumpled the paper into a ball and left it on the table, then went upstairs to my room.

I'd always liked this room. It was ours when he was here, for that year or two. There were two large windows facing the sunrise and a lovely view of the distant mountains, and a closet on the adjacent wall. The door was opposite the closet, and the bed hugged the fourth wall, which faced the windows. When the shades were drawn about halfway, and the door left open just so, it was the most peaceful place in the world. I slid between the sheets to think in perfect quiet.

----

._Danny's memorial service, ten years ago..._

"I said I didn't want one!" I told Jazz, a little miffed. 

"But you went along with it anyway," she reminded me. 

"It would be rude to disallow it," I said.

"Better a memorial than a funeral," Jazz spoke quietly. "It's been nearly three years. It's time to move on." Her eyes were far away, or maybe they were closer; maybe her eyes were on her husband Dash and their two little children.

"I know you've moved on. It's not that easy for me. You have no idea!" Little Jake, who had just turned four, was getting bored and started to toddle away from my side. "Come back, Jakey. You have to stay with me."

"Sam – Danny's gone. He can't be in the human world, or he'd be with you right now. He can't be in the ghost zone, because he knows his way around there and he's stronger than nearly all the ghosts in there. And there's always Clockwork – always had a special place in his heart for Danny. There's no way he's trapped in there. I know Danny. He couldn't be stuck in the ghost zone."

"You mean you don't know anything." We'd gotten along, Jazz and I, but ever since Danny had disappeared, we were growing apart due to disagreements like this. "The ghost zone is wild. Rules don't always apply in there. And there are ghosts stronger than Danny, he just had the luck never to run into one. I know he's in there, but I have no way to get there and just look for him...now if I had ghost powers..."

Jazz sighed. "Don't we all. I'm sure Vlad would be happy to try for you."

"No, Jazz. He's gotten really grouchy these days. It's almost like he misses Danny. But he doesn't care enough to help. He just plays with his cats all day..."

Here Jazz gave a little snort. I smiled. It was a small thing, but at least we still felt the same about some things. 

Jazz seemed a little more into the discussion now. "And Tucker? How about his gadgets?"

I pondered and sighed. "Tucker's great with gadgets...but not ghostly gadgets. That would be your parents. Tucker's more on the human plane, with math and computer programming, that kind of stuff. If your parents would just build something..."

At this suggestion Jazz seemed to close up. "They won't. They've given up. They need time to work through their loss by themselves."

I hated how Jazz sounded like a psychology textbook. _Work through their loss_? Losing Danny was not just a process to work through. It was a lifelong thing...but I guessed neither of us knew why they wouldn't invent anything. In a fit of grief Jack had crushed many of their useful inventions. Now the only things left were their ghost security systems, the ghost gabber, and the sausage cooker that made sausages come alive. I looked at their blueprints for some deceased inventions once. They were indecipherable. They looked like they were written in code, and the sketches like an art project Jake had brought home from preschool. There was no way anyone but a Fenton could work from those sketches. I'd asked Jazz to help, but she refused in the same kind of mindset she was working herself into now. She just seemed to withdraw.

It was hopeless.

"So it's up to me now, isn't it?" I said.

"For the last time...Danny's gone. That's why we're having this memorial. To honor his memory," Jazz said automatically.

"Let me be a psychology textbook for a change...Jazz, you're dealing with your loss badly by closing your heart and not opening up to others your true feelings. Memorial services are supposed to bring 'closure', but you know yourself you'll never forget Danny!"

"I won't forget, but it'll stop the hurting –" Jazz burst out, then caught herself, her face twisting.

"It _won't_ stop the hurting. I only came to be polite."

"I'm going to go check on the kids," Jazz said, her voice strange. I spotted a tear in her eye as she turned.

I stared after her with my arms crossed, thinking. What could I do? I could only wait...

I felt a little body wrap itself around my leg. "Mommy, pick me up!" Jake demanded. I picked him up and let him wrap his arms around my neck. I breathed in his wonderful clean smell. I could wait. Until Jake was old enough. And maybe I'd tell him what happened here today, why there was a picture of a dark-haired, blue-eyed man that everyone was looking at, and who he was – what his other half was. And maybe Jake would have the other half to him too, and he could be my link to Danny, the one who would help me find him in the dark reaches of the ghost zone. I was sure he was there. It was like a compass in my heart pointing me to the unknown.

I warded off conversation by pretending to bounce Jakey and staring off into the distance. Wouldn't it be dangerous to send Jake into the ghost zone, provided he got powers? No – I remembered the map we made long ago of the ghost zone. Clockwork's lair wasn't far. And he would help. He pretty much knows everything. And if he didn't help, he would make sure Jake was safely returned. 

That would be the plan. I stored it away for future reference.

And if Jake didn't get powers?

I don't know what I'd do. For the next ten years, I lived in hope that Jake would get ghost powers. It sounded selfish. In a way it was. (I told myself also that Jake needs a father – which is true.) But it also helped me live. That hope carried me through, and Jake himself, my only son, my life.

----

_The present_

I rolled over in bed, feeling very tired. The thing I'd been wishing for all these years had happened. Jake had ghost powers. But I didn't feel especially keen on revealing his father's secret yet. I didn't feel like doing this to Jake. But the ghost powers don't just go away. Unless Jake is different, but I doubt it. Puberty is a time of growth, and it would be the perfect time for ghost powers to manifest themselves. They must have been hiding in his genes all this time. 

I suppose it's time to wait again, even though I've already waited so long. I can wait some more. When he comes to me about this strange clumsiness...I'll tell him. And we'll begin the adventure. 

I can't wait.

* * *

_there's really no reason why jazz is married to dash. i just felt like it. well, i don't really care for jazz/tucker anyway. better dash than tucker, i'd say.this was written in one setting, edited in another, it was spur of the moment, and i was in the mood -- i feel i work best in that combination. _

_for you people who are still waiting for another chapter of Missingno... umm... -flees- i have it written, it just needs to be checked over for plot and if the events would mess up the ending, etc ... if it's all consistent...the worst part of writing a serious big fanfiction ;[ so keep it on your list. :)_


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